Clockwork sent Danny back in time, a few hundred years.
Then he told him to take a nap.
He swore that the ritual chamber he'd transported Danny to was isolated, and that Danny wouldn't age.
But good goddamn, Danny needed some sleep. The kid is a baby ghost, and they're supposed to spend years forming.
With how powerful Danny is?
He's going to seriously stunt his growth if he doesn't go the fuck to sleep.
Dani can just sleep whenever she wants at Clockwork's place, but Danny can't take the rest he needs or he'll skip his entire mortal life.
So; the timeless chamber for sleep.
And Danny...Danny's fucking tired.
Sleep sounds fantastic. He'll wake up in a few hundred years and feel refreshed.
Sounds great.
The chamber siphons ectoplasm from the surrounding areas, feeding his ghost half, which keeps his human half alive and fine.
It also radiates Realms energy, which can make any human who gets too close for too long a little insane.
Gotham is built on top of that chamber.
That chamber powers every single curse in Gotham.
Clockwork didn't tell Danny this, of course; but Danny's length of necessary sleep depended on how much Ecto his developing core got it's hands on, and normally it would have only been a one hundred year nap.
The curses siphoning off of it made it three hundred or so.
So when Danny finally wakes up, and the protections drop, he lets out a biiiiig stretch, yawns-and goes home. He feels rested! Awake! He finally got some fucking sleep!
Meanwhile, every single curse in Gotham breaks, all at once.
At the same time, the excess Ecto that the citizens of Gotham had been having leeched off of them? Suddenly it's staying with them, and their Liminality breaks through overnight.
It's chaos.
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Inspired by this post because I have some thoughts about this one au.
So, Damian stuffs his shadow twin into the body of an unfinished clone, and somehow it just got worse really. Danny mostly just stuck to him whenever he was a shadow, and hide from basically everyone else.
But now that he has a body?
Sheer and utter chaos.
First of all, was the Batfamily's reaction to Danny. He explained who exactly Danny was, and it pained Bruce to only know now that he had another son that was killed because he was born with a birth defect.
Meanwhile Danny, feral child who may or may not have shadow powers with the maturity of a ten-year-old and the emotional maturity to match. Does not give a single care of what Bruce or anyone that isn't Damian feels.
Damian, meanwhile, is trying to stop him from putting a rat in his mouth because, as much as he loves his brother, he does dislike his specific trait to put basically anything in his mouth.
As a shadow creature? That would be fine.
As a human? No. He does not want his brother to get a disease.
So he is currently trying to wrangle his brother and trying to get him to spit out the rat, and he succeeds, and the rat runs off. Only for a spike of shadow to spear the rat right one through, leaving Damian stunned, and in that time frame the spike whipped back, the rat went in his brother's mouth, and he swallowed.
He looked down at Danny, only to find a tail of shadows peeking out from his back, horns and clawed hands and feet covered in shadows.
And him chewing on the rat.
Damian, did the only thing he could even think to do at that moment.
He smacked his brother's head and chided him for eating something who could have been who knows where.
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Thinking about Astarion's parents and what it must've been like if they truly loved him and then one day he was just .. gone. Gone from their lives forever. Maybe his mother kissed him as he rolled his eyes and his father told him to stay safe today. Maybe he was a reckless, brash, arrogant and decadent young elf barely out of adolescence making his way up in the world but he was clever and bright and full of life and the light of their lives and then one night he just never came home to them
He just disappeared into thin air and his friends and family hadn't seen him and after years and years of misery and torture and horror, they were finally forced to accept their baby boy was dead, another victim swallowed by the gaping black maw of Baldur's gate, having a bodyless burial with a headstone carved in his remembrance because they couldn't take another year of not knowing. Of not knowing what happened to their son.
He was loved. He was loved and missed by someone. When he disappeared, someone mourned him. Someone he can't even remember after centuries of misery and torture. Someone visited his grave. Someone wept for him. Someone paid to have him put to rest. Someone loved him.
He prowled the streets by night that his parents searched by day. Endless. Dogged. Hell for a mother and father robbed of their child. Searching for a single sliver of silver hair in the crowd. His bright smile. His handsome visage, perhaps taking after his father. Perhaps one day he would come home. They could pray and pray that one day he'd find his way home to them. That he isn't dead. One day that never came— and never will.
Because he cannot even remember them. Even as he is free, he cannot remember. Just another thing Cazador took from him.
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amabo te, which is to say please, which is to say i will love you, which is to say i will fight so you will not be alone: "amabo te: an essay on love and begging" by franny marzuki (1, 2, 6, 8, 10, 14) / "adam's ribs" by jensen mcrae (3, 9) / greywaren by maggie stiefvater (4, 12) / howl's moving castle dir. hayao miyazaki (5) / call down the hawk by maggie stiefvater (7, 11) / illustration for "amabo te..." by kerstin stillman (13) / the raven king by maggie stiefvater (15)
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